


Hummed Under Your Breath

by Zillabird



Series: A Conflict of Interest [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillabird/pseuds/Zillabird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case takes Dick and Tim to Metropolis. Tim's mind is on other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hummed Under Your Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This one was interesting to write. I think this is the first that's had any real sexual content in it. It's also the first with a character in it I'm not particularly familiar with writing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Dick was stretched out in the passenger seat, case file open on his lap and manila folder shoved up into the corner of the dashboard by the window. It was already crumpled from being like that, corner bent from the awkward angle where the windshield met the dashboard, and Tim just knew that Damian will make a comment about when Dick took it back that way.

Dick had been stretched out like that since they had started this trip. He’d sworn up and down that halfway he would take over the driving so Tim didn’t have to do the whole four hour trip on his own. Not that he minded, not when he could steal glances at Dick.

The thing with Jason… it hadn’t gone the way Tim had expected. After the movies and take-out, Tim had thought maybe, just maybe-

The road called and Tim dragged his eyes forward once more, trying not to think about the contorted way Dick was sitting and how he still managed to look comfortable. He tried not to think about the CCTV footage of Nightwing kissing Detective Todd.

“You’re quiet,” Dick commented.

Tim looked over, surprised and then blushing. Not because he’d been quiet, Tim wasn’t much for unnecessary talking, but because he’d been thinking about Dick and Jason and the panting you couldn’t hear from the video surveillance but could imagine just fine all on your own.

Well, maybe that was just Tim.

“Sorry. Thinking,” Tim supplied.

Dick nodded, glancing beautiful blue eyes up at him. “About?”

Like it was that simple, that easy. Dick didn’t have any reason to think it wasn’t but it made butterflies flap in Tim’s stomach anyways. “Nothing.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Dick said, a small warm smile. Genuine. “There’s always this look in your eyes like you’re seconds away from solving world hunger.”

That was a curse and a blessing. Dick could open his mouth and shower you with the best compliment you’d ever heard, and make you feel so inadequate because you couldn’t possibly live up to it.

“I don’t think I’m going to solve world hunger,” Tim said.

“You might,” Dick said. “If anyone could, you could.”

Tim didn’t even know what to say to that.

“I used to think that Bruce could do something like that. Enough money, enough charisma, and he was so intelligent,” Dick said. “Not smart, intelligent. I didn’t know the difference until I met him.”

Tim had never met Bruce Wayne. It wasn’t until after he died and Damian had been injured so severely that Dick had ever encountered a single member of the Wayne family outside of those required parties. Damian never talked about him and Dick rarely talked about him. He was as much a mystery as the Batman had been even though Tim was one of few to sit in the Cave chair below Wayne Manor. “You don’t talk about him very much.”

“It still hurts,” Dick admitted. “But anyways… you’re intelligent too, the same kind of intelligent. You remind me of him sometimes. Got a lot on your mind and you get real quiet when somethings bothering you.” He turned his gaze back to the file, as if maybe he knew Tim was struggling under the weight of those too blue eyes. “So, I’ll ask you again. What are you thinking about?”

What was Tim supposed to say? Even now Tim was replaying that footage back in his head, the memory of Jason’s hands squeezed around blue and black clad hips and shoulders and Dick’s hand curled into the cop’s hair. It was hard to decide whether he was more jealous or aroused. Either way, the feelings were cemented in guilt because he didn’t have a right to feel either one of those.

“The case,” Tim settled. Dick didn’t seem like a good liar but Tim was. He’d been lying for so long, been twisting the truth, that Tim knew he could tell a story. “I’m just nervous.”

“Because it’s your first one on the field?” Dick asked.

And there it was. Dick was very logical, despite his emotive ways, he could lay out Tim a path that he didn’t have to think about. Set up Tim’s lie for him. “Yeah.”

Dick nodded. “You really don’t have to worry about it. You’re my first priority, Tim. I won’t let you get hurt.”

Tim wasn’t all that concerned. He knew that Nightwing and Robin were heroes, protectors. Dick wouldn’t take him out if he didn’t think he could keep Tim safe.

“I know,” Tim assured him.

“You sure?” Dick asked.

Tim’s smile was tight. He wasn’t as good at smiling as Dick was. “I’m sure.”

Dick looked at him for a long moment and then put the papers together and grabbed the bent folder out of the window. “Pull over at the next rest stop and I’ll take over driving from you.”

~~~

“Sometimes I forget how much money you have,” Tim said softly, looking around the hotel room. Room wasn’t an accurate description. It was a small apartment.

Even small wasn’t accurate. It was every bit as big as Tim’s apartment back home in Gotham.

“You have money,” Dick said with a laugh.

Tim scoffed. “Not this much money.”

Tim had grown up down the road from the Waynes. He’d seen the Manor as his nanny would take him home from school. But there was a vast difference between the Wayne Manor, a fortune worth billions and billions of dollars, and the Drake’s upper class lifestyle which involved a few staff in the household and a lot of expensive travelling for his parents.

Dick glanced at him. He shrugged and looked around. “I didn’t think you could get used to it, but it’s hard to remember the trailer and the hand-me-downs from other kids in the troupe.”

Right. Dick was a circus kid. He didn’t grow up with money.

“I’m going to set up. The Luthor Gala is tomorrow at seven sharp. I want to get you in early and still have time to get back, get changed, and make my own appearance,” Dick said. “All I need from you is to get hacked into the security and get the file. I’ll keep everyone busy upstairs and, barring that falling through, I’ll have my costume and mask and we’ll do it the old fashioned way.”

“Punching people?” Tim asked.

“Punching people,” Dick confirmed. He set the stuff on the bed. “You want to grab a shower while I get our stuff put away?”

Tim shrugged, eyes narrowing as Dick leaned over and started digging through the bag. It was hard not to watch muscles ripple, even covered by the shirt. The man was made like a Greek god, how could anyone resist the temptation to watch him move? Tim stood, abruptly, and walked into the bathroom. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

The bathroom was amazing like everything else in the hotel room and the shower was huge. He had a spare thought that you could probably fit several people in there. Three or four, at least, comfortably. He forced himself to wipe that thought from his mind and turned on the water so that it came from the multiple heads to spray down on him.

He braced his hands against the wall, feeling water slip down his face in droplets, but kept his eyes closed. It was hard not to think of the man in the other room. Dick Grayson, well, Tim would have to be an asexual celibate monk to not be interested in Dick Grayson. He was beautiful and captivating.

Completely untouchable.

Tim had never been deluded enough to think that he was going to get anywhere near Dick Grayson in a romantic sense, even when he’d first started helping the resident vigilantes and even later when he found out their names. He was no more realistic than a page in a magazine and just as shiny. A good fantasy but nothing more.

Jason Todd, Detective Jason Todd… Tim could admit that he’d entertained the idea of a romance with him though. He was a normal guy, not a cape-less crusader with a secret identity that could have come straight out of the pages of a comic book. And that one afternoon that they’d spent on the couch watching movies, Tim had given in to his own hope. Foolish. He’d found the footage when he went through to scrub Damian and Dick off the cameras not two nights later.

The footage, now long wiped off the cameras, was still saved to his laptop. He was ashamed to admit that he’d watched it several times, usually alone in his bedroom and feeling guilty for letting the images melt into something much more intimate in his head. If he couldn’t have either of them, then he could enjoy the thought of them together. Right?

Tim fisted his hand around his cock and pumped himself as the spray hit him.

It wasn’t fair that the two men were the most beautiful men he’d ever seen. It wasn’t fair that they were both strong and courageous and Tim _knew_ that they deserved each other for that reason alone but Tim wanted so bad to have that in his life too.

It definitely wasn’t fair that every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Dick shoving Jason into a brick wall and locking their lips together. The way Jason would switch them around and prop his leg between Dick’s legs, using his height to keep the vigilante off balance and rub a strong, muscular thigh against what Tim was pretty sure was a very uncomfortable cup.

His grip around himself grew tighter, firm, but his speed never wavered.

The two stopped when Dick got a message on his comm and then took off from sight of the camera. And Jason stood there with a smile on his face for a moment before heading back to the fire escape and moving back down. But in Tim’s mind, the message never came and the two were never interrupted and Dick showed Jason how to disarm his suit so that the detective could strip it inch by inch from his body.

Dick had a gorgeous body, lean and limber. Naturally tan skin from a long Romani heritage. Jason marked up the world and he’d mark Dick up the same way. Leaving bruises in the shape of teeth and long red scratches. Dick’s body was so perfect it was almost as if it begged to be marked and Tim could imagine Jason’s eyes lighting up to the challenge of it.

Tim was panting now, the sound thankfully covered by the sound of water pelting against every surface in the shower. It made the tile in front of his face warm and his hand stutter once before he put more focus into keeping up the rhythm.

Jason would twist Dick’s body into whatever pose he wanted to. Tim knew Dick could accommodate for that, he’d seen just how far Dick was capable of stretching. Bending Dick, forcing him to extend just for Jason, so that the detective could free himself from the confines of cheap dress pants and slide himself into the warm, tight hole presented before him.

Tim’s hand squeezed at that, like he could imagine it was Dick squeezing around him instead.

They’d tangle tongues together and lock their mouths over one another, breathing as one. Jason’s thrusts would slam Dick into the brick wall, hard enough that there would be bruises in the morning. Tim thought there was something especially arousing about knowing that those bruises would blend in with many others, the ones obtained from punches and beatings he’d experienced through the night.

Heat pooled in Tim’s stomach and his hips jerked into his hand. It wasn’t a bad feeling so he did it again, thrusting into the tight grip he had on himself.

When Dick came, Jason would squeeze him all the tighter. The hold he had on Dick’s wrists or hips, the thrusts that would slam into Dick as far as he could get. His teeth would lock around Dick’s bottom lip and bite down until skin broke underneath him. He was so much strength and power and Dick was just flexible enough to take it all.

Jason would follow him over in seconds, depositing his load deep within Dick and then pulling out. Still wet and covered from the slickness of his own orgasm. Tim wondered what that would taste like, wondered if Jason would be pleased if Tim sunk to his knees and Jason’s cock in his mouth. Wonder if he’d make those same panting noises that Tim could imagine every time he watched the footage while the younger man was on his knees and sucking Jason into his mouth like an overenthusiastic whore.

Tim wondered if Dick would slip his fingers into Tim’s hair and push him down farther onto Jason’s cock. Knew he’d struggle to breathe, choke, and it would still be perfect. It would be _more_ perfect for every gasped breath.

He groaned as his cock jerked and splattered his release all over the shower walls. His thighs were weak, shaky from keeping tight, but it was the best kind of ache. He was warm and flushed but the water had washed the sweat down the drain. He tilted his head back, eyes closed, and let the spray hit his face.

The guilt sat in his stomach. He should have turned it off immediately that night and deleted it, not replayed it over and over again and then saved it away. He shouldn’t keep thinking about the two of them and selfishly, ridiculously, putting himself between them.

There was a knock on the door. “Tim? Hurry up, man. I want to shower too.”

Tim pulled his head out of the water, leaning towards the bathroom door. “Almost done!”

~~~

Dick probably spent half of his life with a running soundtrack in his head. Hours of music that he couldn’t seem to kick from the back of his mind. He spent the other half of it with someone’s voice in his ear.

And to be quite honest, sometimes he was still running music in his mind while on a mission.

“Are you humming again?” Tim asked.

Dick’s lips quirked and he covered it by bringing the glass of champagne up to his lips and taking a sip. “Separate Ways.”

He heard Tim’s laugh, the boy still young enough for it to sound light. “One of these days I’m going to make mission playlists based on your constant musical chatter.”

“Let me know when you do,” Dick whispered. “How’s it coming?”

“I need another hour,” Tim said. “Maybe an hour and a half. And you’re ready?”

“I’m ready,” Dick said. “Just let me know if I need to distract Luthor and-“

There was a presence at Dick’s back, one he felt too early and too late. He spun just as the man himself opened his mouth into a grin. All teeth, predatory. “The Wayne heir, Mr. Grayson. What kind of distraction do you present?”

“Shit,” Tim’s voice was in his ear again. Dick found himself having to agree.

Dick smiled. He had never been a particularly gifted liar. Fortunately, he rarely had to be. When Bruce had been alive, all he’d had to do was smile and wave. He was good at smiling, good at pretending to be happy. He was a performer at heart and that’s what he’d been trained to do from birth. No matter how tired he was, no matter how upset he was, he could still smile for an audience and put on a good show. Added to that, Dick knew he was attractive. Not in a prideful way but in a logical way. He was attractive and it worked to his advantage. He could look good and smile and let a better liar cover the stories. It was as much a magic trick as anything else and Dick had never minded being the pretty assistant.

Because he was so much more where it counted.

So Dick smiled at Luthor. “You’ve caught me.”

“Indeed,” Luthor said.

Dick twisted and searched the ballroom floor. His eyes landed on a woman, long dress with a long slit up to her hip. The color was good for her but Dick didn’t have much thought for that. “See that lovely lady over there?”

“There are many lovely ladies here, Mr. Grayson,” Luthor said. He still sounded amused which Dick hoped was a good sign.

Dick’s smile widened but he didn’t turn to look at the other man. “Blue dress. Red hair. Her eyes are too sharp for how many glasses she pretends she’s drunk by collecting empty flutes on the table beside her.”

He knew the moment Luthor’s eyes fell on his chosen pawn. “Go on.”

“She’s a reporter,” Dick said. “From Gotham. Vicki Vale.”

“She’s not the only reporter,” Luthor said, glancing green eyes at the side of Dick’s head.

Dick nodded. “But she’s the only one from Gotham and that city, she breeds a special kind of person.”

“Does she?” Luthor asked conversationally. Dick only nodded and took another sip from his champagne flute. “And why would I need to be distracted?”

“To avoid talking to the lovely Vicki Vale over there,” Dick said. “Heavens knows what you would say if she were to ask questions about a certain Wayne heir.”

“Are you worried about your reputation?” Lex asked.

Dick laughed openly. That was funny and Dick knew it was meant to be such. His laugh attracted the attention of a few men and women around him as well as the attention of the reporter herself. “No, Lex. You don’t mind Lex, do you?”

“Not in this instance,” he said.

“I think my reputation is beyond salvageable, but my little brother…” Dick trailed off.

Lex’s eyes grew a little brighter, pinching at the corners. Dick knew he’d sucked Lex in. “I wondered why he did not accept his invitation.”

“He’s still young, Mr. Luthor, but very serious. I want to let him maintain that image as long as he wishes,” Dick said with a shrug. “He can party when he wants to. Lord knows, his father did well up until his death.”

The smile slipped for a second, a twinge on his face. Bruce’s death still hurt, he hadn’t been lying to Tim about that.

Lex didn’t seem to have caught it. “And the distraction?”

“Well, Mr. Luthor, I suppose that will depend on what it will take to keep you away from Miss Vale?” Dick said. He reached up, pretending to brush his hair out of his face and muting his side of the comm.

“I do not envy your shoes,” Tim muttered, before growing quiet and returning to work on the job.

~~~

The night was long past, the guests returning to their homes, when Dick snuck back in wearing his full Nightwing gear. Tim was holed up in the same place and he looked up when the other man entered the room. “Hey, Wing.”

“Red,” Dick greeted in kind. He glanced at the laptop. “You get it?”

“Thrice over. I have it saved in every imaginable place and then some,” Tim said. “One step closer.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Dick said.

Tim didn’t want to admit that the words made him warm inside. “What did you do to distract Luthor?”

“Sang him a song,” Dick said. There was just enough in his tone that Tim wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

Instead of asking about it he simply asked, “Ready to go?”

“More than,” Dick said.

Tim walked over to his side. He knew how this worked, they’d gone over this part in the plan. The only way out was down, done from several stories up. Tim wrapped his arms around the older man. The material of Nightwing’s costume was thinner than it probably should have been, made it easy to feel every inch of muscle beneath it.

It brought back images Tim had no right in thinking about.

Dick shot the grappling hook and then hit a button on the side, lowering them down until his feet hit the grass. Another button, the hook released and he put the grappling hook away. “Let’s get out of here, Red.”

Tim let go and missed the warmth of another body. A beat and then, “Are you humming again?”

A lighthearted laugh, a practiced quiet just in case. “Yeah.”

Tim was fairly certain he recognized the tune.


End file.
